


The Hamilton Story You’ve Never Heard Before

by l_ecrivain, UnderTheMoonlitDay



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex and Kara cross dress, Alex is Hercules Mulligan, Alex is also Angelica Schuyler, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Barry Allen is Lafeyette, Cat Grant is Jefferson, Endgame Alex Danvers/Sam Arias, Endgame Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone is sassy, In a way, James is Aaron Burr, J’onn J’onzz is Washingston, Kara is Alexander Hamilton, Lena is Eliza Schuyler, Maggie is Angelica Schuyler, Minor Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Multi, Sam is Peggy Schuyler, Slow Burn Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, The Hamilton AU no one asked for, Winn is Laurens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_ecrivain/pseuds/l_ecrivain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheMoonlitDay/pseuds/UnderTheMoonlitDay
Summary: Kara Sorrel, an orphan immigrant from the Caribbean, will change America forever.ORKara Danvers is Alexander Hamilton





	1. Kara Danvers

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this story came from, but BOY am I excited to let you guys read it! This will be a serious of one-shots based on the songs from Hamilton, split between my friend MissEcrivain, and I. We have big plans for this story! I hope you enjoy!

On a schooner in the middle of the Northern Atlantic, a girl rested against the trunk of the mast. She was an orphan immigrant, dirty and lean with bright blue eyes and long, tangled, greasy blonde hair. She had it hidden up under a bandana fashioned out of an old raggedy shirt, and fear shadowed her every move. Her name was Kara Sorrel, the nineteen year old daughter of a highborn scoundrel from Scotland and a divorced woman from the Caribbean. To those aboard the ship, however, she was known as Klark, a young man of fourteen looking for a new start in America and willing to do whatever it took to do so. The sailors mostly left “Klark” alone. He was too skinny and small to arm wrestle or spar and too quiet to tease.

 

When she was young, her life was relatively normal. She had a mother, Alora, who loved her, and a father who provided for her and told her wonderous stories from his homeland. She lived in a town where mostly everyone adored the sunny little girl who always wore a crown of flowers in her streaming blonde locks.

 

But then everything changed. Now here she was, on a ship headed for a new land, not a dollar to her name nor anyone there with her to soothe the lonely ache in her heart.

 

“Heads up, boy!” came an impatient grunt from the mast. Kara looked up as a gruff sailor tossed down a long coil of rope. Kara just stared at it. “Well, are you going to help sail this piece of crap or not?”

 

 _I’d rather not_ , she kept her thoughts to herself. The sailors had made it very clear they didn’t like the opinions of outsiders, especially hers. Instead, she picked up the rope and tied it off to its proper spot before continuing to scrub the deck. Her hands hurt from twelve days of long hours manning the boat with the other men and boys while the women and children were stowed away below deck. She didn’t envy them in their tightly packed quarters, but she sometimes wished she didn’t have to hide who she was.

 

“Pick up the pace boy!” The sailor snapped, leaping down and kicking her soapy water bucket over. When Kara stopped and glared at the man, he splayed his arms in a challenging manner. “Did I stutter?”

 

Before Kara could think of a response, there was a shout from the crow’s nest, which was echoed throughout the boat. “Land ho!”

 

She threw her rag down and began to climb the mast to see. A large swath of green met her eyes, the first green she had seen in twelve days. She took a deep breath in, caught a whiff of the green fresh leaf smell over the salty smell of the sea and broke into a smile at the sight of the land. A city lay bustling somewhere right on the shore, the city of New York, but Kara had no idea what it looked like. She didn’t know anything of the world except from what she had read in her books and what she had seen in her small, sun-kissed home in the Caribbean.

 

“What do you see, boy?” The sailor shouted up at her. She glanced down to see him and some other deckhands gathering around as well. Kara couldn’t hold in her laugh as a seabird flew by, one she had never seen before.

 

“Home!” She replied in her deeper voice that she had perfected for Klark. She turned her blue eyes back to the swath of wilderness on the horizon and whispered in her own voice. “I finally see where I belong.”

 

***

 

She passed through immigration easily enough with her fake papers that she had crafted for Klark. When she had first began to teach herself how to read and write, she had thought that she would never get herself anywhere. It was a necessity for her, a recently orphaned girl of twelve, so that she could understand the way the world worked and fend for herself, yet here she was, seven years later entering a new country dressed as a man with the papers to prove it and a hunger for a new and better life. The redcoats never batted an eye at the supposed fourteen year old traipsing through the docks.

 

She grinned and turned to start her new life when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Kara turned, ready to fight whatever was coming, but relaxed with a tilted head as she realized it was just the sailor from this morning.

 

“A bag o’ coin, for your troubles,” he said with a grin, passing her a small burlap pouch that she immediately tied into her belt loop. “Cap’in’s orders. Good luck with your new life.”

 

He sauntered off without a backwards glance, leaving Kara no chance to thank him. She examined the pouch, found enough money inside to get her started in the New World, and set off towards the bustling cobbled streets. New York was entirely different from her hometown. People of every color and language walked through the streets and the air stirred with the sounds of conversation.

 

She strode through the buildings, taking in everything, when she heard the sounds of a large gathering in a courtyard near the docks. Kara stopped for a moment, frowning in deep hatred as she realized this was a slave auction. Several gaunt, tired and hopeless people stood with rope and boards around their neck advertising their price and what their ideal position would be. Her blood boiled, and her fists clenched tight when she saw one young man almost bowed over, the white loose fitting shirt he wore on his back ripped and bloody due to fresh whip marks. She was ready to stride up there and collect the man, but sadly realized she would probably be killed in the process.

 

Slavery was not something she was new to. She ran a trade charter as a fourteen year old and had seen the hopeless people being shipped over to the New World from wherever it was they were coming from. They were already broken by the time they arrived in the Caribbean, and Kara had the scars that came from trying to free the people. She was forced to bide her time and wait for an opportunity to abolish slavery that didn’t involve brute force. She had to use her brain instead of her fists, come up with a clever solution.

 

Which is why she wrote her way out of her town, booked passage for a new land and aimed to enter one of the most prestigious schools in this new country: King’s College.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone brushed alongside of her. She smiled politely at the person, a red haired woman wearing dirty ragged clothing similar to Kara’s, and went to move on when she froze. The weight of the money pouch on her hip was gone. Her eyes flew down and her hands grasped at the belt, but the pouch was gone.

 

Her blue eyes immediately went to the woman in the dirty clothes, calmly making her way towards the other side of the courtyard. Kara started to follow slowly when the woman looked back, locked eyes with Kara, and fled at a full-tilt sprint.

 

“Hey! Stop, thief!” She cried in her male voice, booking it after the woman. _She’s fast_ , Kara thought to herself as the woman managed to outpace her for the first little bit. _But not fast enough._

 

With an extra burst of speed, and a poorly-timed stumble from the other woman, Kara pounced, landing squarely on the other woman and dragging her to the ground. She was not very fond of being caught and kept trying to wiggle her way out from under Kara.

 

“Stop moving!” Kara grunted, turning the woman over. “How dare you—” She broke off with a small gasp as the cool kiss of metal touched the exposed skin of her midriff, her shirt coming untucked and hanging loose in the fray of catching the thief. She had seized an opportunity and now had a small but deadly knife pressed to her stomach.

 

“Cut the shit,” the other woman panted, her dark eyes gleaming as she reached up with her unarmed hand and ripped the bandana off of Kara’s head, allowing her long greasy blonde hair to fall around her face. She tossed her hair and glared at the red haired woman, who looked to be only a year or two older than Kara. “I know you’re a woman.”

 

Kara gasped in surprise but still didn’t let the thief up, knowing she would take off the moment Kara did. “How did you know?”

 

The other woman rolled her eyes. “Please. You may talk like a man, but you walk like you need to be afraid of everything. A man doesn’t walk like that. Ever. He will always walk as though he owns the world.” Her tone took on one of exasperation.

 

Kara relaxed a slight bit, still pinning the woman down by the shirt. “Why did you steal from me?”

 

“Well I was hungry. Besides, lots of rich folks come in off the boats, oblivious to street kids like me. Therefore, it is super easy to steal from them. You were a bit tricky,” she mused with grudging respect in her eyes. “What’s your name?”

 

“Klark.” The woman lifted one eyebrow incredulously.

 

“What’s your real name?”

 

“Kara. Are you going to tell me yours?”

 

The thief paused, looking up at the sky. It was in this moment that Kara realized the knife was no longer pressed to her stomach. She loosened her own grip slightly. “My name is Alex,” she said at last.

 

“Well, Alex. Can I have my money back?”

 

Sighing, Alex let go of the knife and reached into her black vest she wore, tossing Kara the pouch of money. The blonde looked into the pouch, making sure everything was there before she turned back to Alex.

 

“Thank you. Now do you want to go find somewhere to eat?”

 

Alex laughed and smirked. “Honey, no one is going to serve us when we look like something the cat dragged in. Besides, you smell like shit.”

 

Kara rolled her eyes and finally stood up, letting go of Alex and reaching out a hand to help her up. “What do you suggest we do?”

 

***

 

“Well, that was a good idea,” Kara said, laughing as she flopped onto her back on the hay-stuffed mattress in their room in an inn on the outskirts of town. She had just bathed for the first time in twelve days and her hair lay limp but drying, no longer greasy. Their first decision upon booking the small motel room was to draw the bath water and for each to have a quick scrub down. It may have taken them an hour, but Kara and Alex hardly noticed. Without even realizing it, the two were quickly growing inseparable, though that had only known each other for a short time. Alex sat down beside her, more composed than the immigrant girl. “How did you find this place?”

 

“It’s where my parents dropped me off,” Alex said with a small shrug. She turned her head away as though pained when Kara sat up. “I never saw them again.”

 

Kara felt her heart tug in sympathy and she put a hand on Alex’s shoulder as a sign of companionship. “I’m sorry. I lost my parents, too. That’s how I ended up here.”

 

Alex nodded her head but stayed quiet. After a moment she shook off her thoughts and Kara’s hand and stood, examining her clothes. Kara also took a second look at Alex’s outfit. The woman wore a dirty and torn shirt with the full length sleeves of a man, and a vest made of black leather. She wore breeches and leather boots similar to Kara’s that were befitting a man as well, but it was still obvious she was a woman. Her chest swelled too much, given the woman probably didn’t know how to bind it like Kara did with her own chest, and her hair, while it was gathered back in a thong, was too long to be a man’s.

 

“Can I help you?” She snapped Kara out from her thoughts. The blonde smiled at the redhead.

 

“How well do you make money dressed up as a man?”

 

Alex shrugged. “Better than when I dressed as a woman, but not as well as I could be getting paid.”

 

“Have you ever thought about working?”

 

Dark hazel eyes met blue ones with an incredulous look about them. “Who in their right minds would hire a woman? Besides what would I do?”

 

“Well, surely you could make some more of those.” Kara motioned to all of Alex’s garments. “You did create them yourself didn’t you?”

 

“Well yes but—”

 

“Perfect!” Kara interjected. “We can do something with that.” She motioned to Alex’s top half. The redhead looked down at herself and frowned suspiciously.

 

“What’s wrong with how I look?”

 

“What man swells at the chest? And your hair is just a small bit too long. Do you still have that knife?”

 

“Well, yes,” Alex began, pulling out the small knife still in it’s leather sheath. “ ut—”

 

“Perfect!” Kara grabbed the knife before Alex could put it away. “And what are your thoughts on binding?”

 

***

 

Three days after their meeting, Alex finally gave in to Kara’s constant pestering and allowed the younger blonde woman to cut her hair. As it turned out, Kara was not a very good barber, a fact made none-the-better by the knife Alex had given her, which was fairly dull. Alex now sported a chin length bob, which was still long enough to be tied up in a thong or hang loose with the exception of part of her bangs near a large spot of hair nearly down to the scalp on one side. The bangs were too short to reach the thong and now hung down the side of her face. Either way, no one would target Alex as anything other than a man doing his business.

 

Alex ran a hand down the patch of hair, hardly longer than her fingertip, and her dark hazel eyes gleamed in horror. “What have you done?”

 

“It’s not my fault!” Kara protested, using the straw broom she found on one side of the room to sweep up Alex’s hair. “Your knife was dull and my hand slipped. If you are worried about it, cover it up.” She tossed Alex a simple black, brimless hat that she had in her possession from her time as a sailor. “Now, I have just enough coin to buy some new clothes for us. Why don’t we go to town and see what we can find? No one will hire us in these rags.”

 

“I still don’t get what you expect us to do?” Alex asked. She put the hat on, then took it off and frowned at it in disagreement. Her eyes lit up unexpectedly as she grabbed her knife and carved off the top of the hat. She whipped out a needle, tucked the frayed edged into the seams and fit the new garment over her head. Instead of a hat, it now acted as a headband, keeping her hair off her face and covering her shorn patch. “That’s better. What?”

 

The last question was also directed at Kara, who had been staring at Alex disbelievingly, as if the answer was right there. “Did you not see what you just did?” The blonde asked, motioning to the new headband.

 

“I tucked in some loose ends, so what?”

 

“Alex... become a tailor’s apprentice! You could make so much money and it appears that you enjoy making garments!”

 

“I’ve tried, Kara! They don’t want me.”

 

“They may not have wanted street rat Alexandra.” Kara stood and fixed Alex’s collar, which was standing up weird in the back. “But, wait until we show them Alex Danvers, gentleman and tailor’s apprentice! And they’ve never met Klark Danvers, Alex’s persuasive little brother!”

 

The redhead spun around to face Kara, her eyebrows drawn up in hopeful curiousness. “You... you mean that?”

 

“Of course I do, silly! We have to stick together! The streets are a dangerous place for two women disguised as men.” Alex’s eyes welled with emotion, and Kara gave her a small hug. “Now let’s go buy some clothes and get you a job!”

 

“And what will you do?”

 

A vision of the slaves that she had witnessed flashed before her eyes. The broken down, defeated souls haunted her, the wounds and signs of abuse so visible that they plagued her dreams. The thought ignited a fire within Kara, the passion to make change in the world. She turned back to Alex. “I hear the pen is mightier than the sword. There are some things I wish to change about the world.”

 

***

 

 _Dear Mr. Danvers_ , the letter read.

 

_You have a way with words, good sir! I am writing to inform you that your passionate essay on the abolishment of slavery, along with your well-versed essay on your childhood in the Caribbean has moved myself and the council of professors here at King’s College greatly. We have found your letter of intent for the study of law, and we the Council have decided to show our appreciation of young, smartly written minds such as yours by giving you a full scholarship to attend King’s College._

_We look forward to seeing how you will change the world. I am sure that one day you will blow us all away._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Sir Hank Henshaw, dean of King’s College._

 

Kara looked up from the letter to where Alex stood, adjusting her cravat in the small mirror. “Alex. I got in!” She exclaimed excitedly, standing from her desk with a small squeal.

 

Alex smiled and gave Kara a hug. “I’m so happy for you!” She replied with glowing eyes. “By the time the semester rolls around, I should have enough to take the tailor’s class I need to become a master.”

 

It had been six months since Kara arrived in New York, and in that time, she had helped Alex obtain an apprenticeship as a tailor under Hercules Mulligan. With the money that Alex made from her clothing, and the money that Kara made from her witty and crafty articles that she sometimes published under the pen name Klark Danvers, the two had been able to rent a small apartment. It was nothing special; a hovel of sorts, one room with a small stove, a curtained off corner for the chamber pot, and two rickety beds made of straw. The girls still often went to bed hungry due to the rising costs of food and other necessities for life.

 

The reason for the rising costs and hunger made itself known once more as an echoing boom shook their house. Kara glanced worriedly to Alex, whose dark eyes seemed to grow darker as she looked out the window towards Long Island. The revolution was happening out on the Island where the Continental Army was fighting with the British army. They could not see the conflict, but the signs were there. At first, they could only hear the distant booms of the British cannons firing upon the American troops, however, over time, the booms got louder as the Americans were forced back. Just yesterday, Kara noticed a new, higher pitched but no less worrying noise amidst the cacophony—gunfire. As she lay on her cot, unable to sleep, she noticed a small flicker on the southern point of the Island. It was as though someone were hastily igniting a lantern, only as the night wore on, more and more of the flickers were noticeable, along with the sound of gunfire. She was seeing the guns fire, the small explosion made by the reaction of the gunpowder interacting with a small spark to send off the bullet.

 

A raw, hot feeling of yearning yawned in the pit of Kara’s stomach. That was where she wanted to be, out fighting with her fellow brothers in arms against the British. But she knew how dangerous it was to fight as a woman, especially if she was discovered, and she knew that if she went through with college, she would be able to make a name for herself in the world.

 

Seeing the conflict clear on the blonde’s face, Alex smiled sympathetically. “I know you want to fight for what’s right,” she said softly. “But if the war wants you, it will come and get you. And besides, it must be fate for you to go to college. Hardly anyone gets a full scholarship.”

 

Kara squeezed the hand of the woman she now considered her sister and nodded her head. “You’re right,” she replied. She turned her back to the window and began to compose a letter of response to the dean of King’s College. A small thought tucked itself into the back of her head. _One day, the war will find me. And I will be ready when it does._

 

 


	2. Super Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing some characters who might change the course of the war to come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Sorry this took forever to update... I am currently living in a place with no wifi so my creativity is exploding but I have no way of sharing it with you guys. Anyways, here is a fun chapter to give you something to read! Enjoy!
> 
> Side note: as this story is based on the musical (I have a very limited knowledge of American history) you may notice there are some rhymes and lines taken from the musical. This is why

Winter gripped the land in a leaden grip and even the skirmishes on Long Island seemed to die off in the cold. It was December, a few weeks before Christmas, and Kara had finished up her studies for the semester, passing all her exams with flying colours though her mind still yearned for more.

 

She had been visiting Alex, going shopping for the most perfect turkey for an early Christmas dinner, when she looked across the street on her way to the store and saw a sight nearly like royalty. Her mind short-circuited as she grabbed Alex’s arm and squeezed.

 

“Alex,” she hissed, causing the auburn haired girl to stop in her steps and look at Kara seriously.

 

“What?”

 

“Alex, it’s _him_!”

 

“Who?” She frowned across the street at a tall, handsome man as he made his way through the snow, pulling his jacket tighter and nodding at someone he seemed to recognize. “Who is that?”

 

“It’s James Olsen! The man who graduated early from Princeton so he could be a part of the revolution?” Kara explained with an uplifting question at the end, as though Alex should know who James Olsen was. She herself had heard of him through the grapevine at school. He was something of a legend despite attending a different school, with the students being envious that he got to leave earlier, and the scholars being proud of him for fighting for what’s right. Kara had gotten it into her head that she could follow the same path as him, but now her only real option was to talk to him.

 

“And why are you so excited?”

 

“Didn’t you hear me? He graduated _early_! Like I want to!” The blonde haired woman watched as he ducked into a tavern. Grabbing her sister’s arm, she tugged her towards the tavern, saying over her shoulder, “Follow my lead!” as she crossed the street, taking no heed to the angry carriage drivers she cut off in the process.

 

Opening the door, the two women disguised as men were greeted by a wall of warmth that smelled of alcohol and echoed with the voices of talking men. James Olsen stood at the bar, chatting with the barkeep while smiling genially. Kara prepared herself and adapted Klark’s deeper voice and more assured posture while Alex merely rolled her eyes.

 

Hesitantly, Kara tapped James’ shoulder. He turned around, seemingly surprised that someone wanted his attention, but Kara had a one track mind and did not notice his expression.

 

“Pardon me, are you James Olsen, sir?”

 

“Who’s asking?” James replied, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced over Kara. She fought her cheeks reddening and cleared her throat.

 

“Of course, where are my manners. I’m Kar—Klark Danvers, at your service.” She does a little bow to hide her alarm at nearly giving away her name while Alex watched on, looking bored. “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

“I’m getting nervous,” James said with a chuckle, looking away.

 

“Sir, I heard your name at Princeton while I was seeking an accelerated course of study, and I may have gotten... out of sorts with a friend of yours. I may have punched him but it’s a blur.” She had to fight to keep her posture from slouching as she was analyzed critically under the twin stares of Alex and James. “He, erm, handles the financials?”

 

“Really, Klark,” Alex growled in a deep voice, her dark eyes hard. “You punched the bursar?”

 

“Yes,” Kara answered confidently before turning back to James. “I wanted to do what you did, graduate in two years and then join the revolution. But he looked at me like I was stupid—I’m not, sir.” She rushed to finish her sentence as James grew more and more uncomfortable by the moment. “So how’d you do it? How’d you graduate so fast?”

 

James’ face went steely as he stood to leave with a drink in his hand. “It was my parents dying wish.”

 

“So you’re an orphan?” She followed him on his heels, conscious of Alex attempting to tug her back, but her curiosity already outweighed her wariness. “Of course! We are orphans, too! God, I wish there was a war that we can prove that we’re worth more than what everyone bargained for!”

 

For a moment, James just observed Kara in dumb-founded awe. Then he shook himself and offered a half-smile. “Can I buy you a drink? And while we’re talking can I also offer you some free advice?”

 

Kara returned his half-smile with a full one of her own and looked back smugly at Alex as James led the way back to the bar. “That would be nice!”

 

“Talk... less,” he said, handing her a pint. Kara stared at him in confusion.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Smile more!” This was said as he handed Alex a pint with a flourish and a charming smile. He took a swig of his own and his dark eyes looked around quickly before he returned to Kara. “Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.”

 

“Who?”

 

He pointed around the room in a vague gesture and Kara took a step back, trying not to let her lip curl in disgust. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“You want to get ahead, don’t you?” This was asked of both Kara and Alex, who seemed drawn into the conversation as well.

 

“Yes,” Kara answered firmly while Alex nodded.

 

“Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.” He took another drink of his ale before the sound of the door slamming open had his shoulders coming up to his ears and a raucously loud voice shouted.

 

“What time is it?!” Kara and Alex both turned to look while James seemed to hide in his drink. The voice came from a young man with a cheery face, who was clearly already drunk. His question was posed to his two companions, who looked equally as drunk.

 

“Show time!” The two howled after him. One of them, older than the other two with a scruffy beard, grabbed someone’s drink as they were raising it to their mouth and gulped it’s contents down. The original owner looked up in disgust and confusion while the man smirked down at him, slammed the empty glass down and bellowed, “Long live the revolution!”

 

The others gathered in the tavern responded with different answers. Most grumbled against it while a few, mostly younger school aged men, cheered with the three drunk friends. Kara looked back to James as he huffed. “Like I said,” he mumbled into his mug, trying not to catch the attention of the three who just walked in.

 

It didn’t work. The ring-leader of the three almost teetered into a guy who shoved him off and right into view of James. The young man grinned in an entirely mischievous way and stumbled his way over.

 

“Hey look!” He said, shoving one of his friends with a cackle. As he came over, Kara realized that his mischievous grin, his twinkling eyes and his spiky hair all looked familiar from somewhere. “It’s the pride of the college, James Olsen! Haven’t seen ya much outsida Princeton!” He slung an arm around James’ shoulders, jostling his beer he had taken from a barmaid all over James’ shirt. His words were slurring a bit as the two others came over. “What’a ya been doin’, lying low or something?”

 

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he removed the other gentleman’s hand from around his shoulders. Kara watched the interaction with rapt interest. “You and all your friends talk big but we’ll see where we stand when you’re shot for running your trap and I sneak through the cracks without saying anything.”

 

The two others gave a hoot of unhappiness and the leader continued on, his face a mask of drunken confusion. “But the revolution is imminent, what do you stall for?”

 

Kara’s opinion on James was rapidly changing. She wasn’t sure he was the star-studded hero she had in mind. Rather, this other group of men her age seemed to be more inline with what she was interested in. “If you stand for nothing, Olsen, what will you fall for?” She asked gravely, observing James with a frown. Suddenly four pairs of eyes were on her and she fought not to blush under the scrutiny. Even Alex looked surprise at her tone.

 

“Who’s the new guy?” The ring-leader asked, nudging James and spilling more beer all over him. James gave an exasperated shake of his head.

 

“Klark and Alex Danvers, at your service,” Kara introduced herself and Alex in her scratchy male voice. “And you are?”

 

“Winnslow Schott Jr, at yours,” he slurred, doing a sloppy bow. Now his familiarity revealed itself. Kara and Winn had some classes together in the college. “My friends call me Winn for short. Winnslow was my father. These handsome lads here are the future of our country. Who do we got? We got the Marquis de Lafayette himself, or as he’s known around these parts, Barry Allen!” Theother young man standing beside Winn and not quite as drunk as he and the other man gave a closed mouth smile and waved awkwardly. He was tall and lanky, with tussled, wind-blown hair and kind brown eyes. “And then we got New York’s original badass, Oliver Queen!”

 

The older man was guzzling back yet another ale and let out a belch just as Winn stopped speaking. “What do you want, pipsqueak?” He asked in a gruff mumble, glaring blearily at Kara.

 

“Me? I want a shot at life. The revolution is my chance and I am not throwing away my shot!”

 

Oliver gave a grunt and put his head down on the table, sound asleep in seconds. Everyone else looked interested for Kara to continue, with Winn even coming out of his drunken haze a bit to listen in, though James seems resigned about it. Kara took another pass of her drink and then stood up quickly, pacing around the table.

 

“Let me lay it out for you. I got a scholarship to King’s College. I probably shouldn’t brag but the scholars say I amaze and astonish,” she smirked. “I got a lot of brains but I don’t come from a successful family. In class, I’ve got to holler just to be heard even though I know things the other pinheads don’t. I swear to you, I’ve got what it takes to make America better. I’m only nineteen but my mind is older.”

 

Looking over at her sister, who was still remaining silent but had an almost proud look on her face, Kara paused for a moment to gather her words before continuing. “Alex and I, we don’t have a lot. A measly small apartment that’s cramped for the two of us and we hardly ever have enough to eat. We’ve shouldered every disadvantage thrown our way all our lives. We’ve learned to manage life, we have survived even though we are starving. And sitting here, talking with all of you, I see a spark. Even in you, James.” There was another pause as Barry and Winn chuckled and Barry nudged James playfully. The serious man let a small, tired smile show on his face. Kara pressed on.

 

“My plan is to fan this spark that we—all of us wanting a new America—have into a flame. We are meant to be a colony that runs independently. And we can’t do that while we live in the shadow of our oppressors, who shit on us constantly and tax us relentlessly. We deserve a chance to make our own way in the world! I’m willing to lay down my life if it sets us free; I just can’t sit by idly doing nothing anymore.” She glanced at the group, seeing a bit of admiration on Winn’s amiable face, respect on Barry’s, and a whole lot of love in Alex’s dark eyes. James seemed unmoved, his emotions hidden under a stone-like mask. Kara frowns at him a bit and pushes on. “Like I said, I’m not throwing away my shot. I’m young, scrappy and hungry, just like my country.”

 

At the end of her monologue, she gulped down all her beer in one go and slammed it on the table. Barry and Winn both cheered for her while Alex smiled and stood, raising her glass.

 

“I may only be a tailor’s apprentice, but I have to take care of you, Klark, wherever you go.” Alex mumbled in her deep male voice. Her words sent a warm wave through Kara as she realized she finally had someone who loved her. “Besides. If I join the rebellion, maybe that’s my chance to make my own name in the world.”

 

Her’s was short and sweet. After all, Kara was the talker, not Alex. As the reddish-brown haired girl sat, nursing her drink, Barry stands up. “I dream of life without the monarchy,” he explained in a slight French accent. “The unrest in France will lead to onarchy.” He looks down as Winn sniggered and cuffed his head lightly. “How you say? Oh, anarchy. When I fight I make the other side panicky with my shot! I’m with you boys until the end, whichever that may be.”

 

He sat down as Winn stood, looking proud. “Well, we will never be truly free until those in slavery have the same rights as all of us. Wait till I ride in to battle with the first black battalion. It’s do or die! Let’s have a shot!”

 

As Barry, Alex and Kara stood with a cheer, James seemed propelled into action. “Hey, geniuses, lower your voices,” he growled, grabbing Kara’s arm and tugging her to sit down as members of a redcoat troop trickled into the tavern. “If you stay out of jail, you’ve got double the choices.” Kara made a small scoff in the back of her throat and went to stand but James tugged her back down. “Look, I’m with you but these are dark times. You’ve got to be careful. If the redcoats hear what you’re saying, you’re going to get shot!”

 

“James, I appreciate your concern, but look what we got! Barry sounds pretty promising, and Winn seems crafty. Oliver is... careful enough.” She let out a chuckle at the man who was drunkenly passed out beside her. “And Alex won’t let anything happen to us. What are the odds that we all ended up in the same spot?”

 

As the others returned with the shots—Alex carrying one for Kara—the blonde continued. “Look, give me a position, show me where the ammunition is!”

 

The last bit of her sentenced was overheard by one of the redcoat soldiers, who glanced sharply in their direction. Alex gave Kara a hard whack on the back of her head which sent her gagging and sputtering over her shot while Winn and Barry chuckled at her. She glared at her sister who tossed her head towards the redcoat. He was losing interest although his head was still cocked in their direction. She seemed to realize why after a moment.

 

“Oh, am I talking too loud? Sometimes I get excited,” she explained sheepishly. “I never had a group of friends before but I promise that I’ll make you all proud!” She turned her bright blue eyes to her sister’s dark ones and they glimmered in happiness. She would make Alex proud to be her sister.

 

“We should get this guy in front of a crowd!” Winn announced, slapping Barry’s arm lightly. “Klark, have you ever spoken in City Hall Park before?”

 

Kara shook her head. “What’s there?”

 

“Come on a Thursday after class. You could really rally lots of people with your words. You certainly seem to have a way with them.”

 

She beamed with pride and puffed out her chest. So this is what having friends felt like. Winn banged on the table. “Another shot! We have a cause to celebrate!”

 

 

***

 

Hours passed by and soon Kara was viewing the world through a fuzzy haze, squinting her eyes and slurring her words a bit. Everyone was drunk from round after round of shots and pints of ale and beer, but everyone was in a jovial mood. Even lofty James hummed and sighed in satisfaction, having mellowed out a bit as the alcohol hit his system. Kara looked from Alex to Barry, Winn and Oliver, who had revived himself and was now just a tad bit drunker than the rest of them. The bar was empty aside for them and the barkeep, who hardly glanced at them as he wiped down the counters.

 

“I may not live to see our glory,” the blonde girl murmurs, swirling the remains of her ale in her mug. “But I will gladly join the fight. And when our children tell our story, their tales will start with the story of tonight!”

 

“Let’s have another round!” Oliver announced. Barry leaned his head on his arm and looked at Kara with bleary brown eyes.

 

“You’re voice goes all funny high pitched when you are drunk,” he chuckled to himself while Alex and Kata exchange a slightly alarmed look. Had Kara’s voice given them away?Before that conversation could continue, Winn stood on the table, staggering only slightly and earning a sharp glare from the barkeep.

 

“Raise a glass to freedom,” he said softly, a smooth smile on his face. “Something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you.” Everyone raised their glass and took a drink, but Winn wasn’t done. “Raise your glass to the six of us. Tomorrow, there will be more! Hundreds upon hundreds of us, all ready to fight and die for our country. And we will all tell the story of tonight!”

 

“Gentlemen, from tonight on, we are friends,” Barry slurred, his accent more pronounced. “But more than that, we are... What is ze word? Super! From tonight on, we are ze Super Friends!”

 

“To the Super Friends!” Everyone shouted back, laughing a bit at how childish it sounded, but no one had the heart to change the name. It even had a nice ring to it.

 

And that was how Kara made not just one friend, but four, all in one day. She looked around at the little ragtag group and smiled happily. If this is what having a family felt like... she was glad she went to New York and found it. And she knew she would let nothing take it away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

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